Them Old Dog Blues. It's been a wretched week at the Bear household.
Hi. Coming out of semi-lurker mode because I'm worn out and sad, and The Lounge gives good hugs.
I post now and then about our two Cavaliers, Tucker and Merrily. They're kind of getting on, Tucker's 11 and Merrily 9, but Cavaliers have pretty long lives so we weren't counting days, til now.
Tucker's been suffering from weakening back legs, arthritis stuff, not able to get on the couch without difficulty, but we figured it for old age and dealt with it. Then he took a turn for the damn-near-crippled. We took him to the vet and, this week, to a specialist. Turns out he has a badly bulging disk, nerve damage, and two large masses on his spleen. We're now on that terrible course of "Do we spend massive money on something that might prolong a painful life by a short time, or do we let him go on for a bit and then gently let him go?" He's a trooper, a happy personality and glad to be here right now, but he's clearly in pain that we can only manage for a while. I've taken the splenectomy route before with a beloved dog and frankly it didn't buy us much of anything.
Meanwhile, Merrily got what we though was kennel cough. Well, the vet did. I figured otherwise since no one else got it and it was clearly in response to excitement and physical activity. This week's X-ray confirmed congestive heart failure. We literally have an appointment with a dog cardiologist on Monday. She can probably be managed for a while on Lasix but not forever.
So we've got to elders who need to pee every hour, can't go for walks, can't go up our many, many stairs, Merrily won't eat but is stressed out about anyone else eating, Tucker wants to eat constantly (I swear there's a senility issue) and begs for food nonstop, and Mr. Bear travels a lot. I work too, and I'm going a little mad trying to clean up after accidents and keep everyone comfortable and half-carry a guy that's too big for me to haul around.
I find some Zen on and off, appreciating the miracle that is a dog, and the sadness that inevitably being God to them brings. The vet keeps saying "You're good people. I know you're doing all you can. There's no shame in deciding to let go." She's sad as hell too, which is oddly comforting. But right now comfort has its limits.
Ah. Tucker's awake. He's glad to see me. I'm glad to see him. But it's going to be another hard day.
Thanks for listening. Some problems have no solutions, but it's good to share them.
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This ain't my first Old Dog rodeo, and when I had to euthanize my Joe I remember walking out of the vet's past a mother dog and her new litter. It made me smile that sad smile that acknowledge that individual lives end but LIFE goes on. 
but this.
While it may not bring comfortat the moment - knowing you have been able to give Tucker a great life with love and kindness is something to hang on to.
Sending hugs.
I do know that. And a big dose of humility, which, while sometimes painful, is a helluva teacher. Thanks.
Thanks.
know how it feels, sadly. be sure to sit with them - and tell them all the wonderful things and memories you have of them - how much you love them and appreciate them. they welcome hearing it as much as hoomans. also, it consoles them. they have concern for their hoomans and sometimes hang on so as not to leave them.
one was a heeler mix and the other a yellow lab. we had a wonderful vet who came out to our car and spoke to them so sweetly. our heeler was almost 18 and the lab was just short of her 17th year. he calmed them with a sedative and then euthanized them. we were able to take them home and bury them in the yard.
because you were there for them. Letting go is so hard. No doubt the hardest part of life.
Hugs for you from me and our wee menagerie of critters